


Stacks of pancakes as tall as my love for you

by natigail



Series: Phan Reality One Shots [20]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2021!phan, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Insomnia, M/M, Pancakes, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29496273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natigail/pseuds/natigail
Summary: Phil loves pancakes and he loves Pancake Day but he isn't really in his usual mood for it when the day comes around in 2021. It's a pleasant and befuddling surprise when he finds Dan has taken on a surprise pancake project all on his own.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: Phan Reality One Shots [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/788379
Comments: 9
Kudos: 74





	Stacks of pancakes as tall as my love for you

**Author's Note:**

> An idea comes and I just have to write it. Written very fast because the idea would not leave my Tired Brain alone. 
> 
> No real TWs but there's one cannibalism joke in there and Dan has a sleepless night

Phil had always loved pancakes. You could not speak to him at any point from the moment he had learned to form words and been told anything else. Pancakes were magical. Tiny Phil had always thought so.

He blamed his mother for it. She had liked pancakes too. If anyone in the house was having a bad day, herself included, she would relocate to the kitchen and start mixing a batter. The first time Phil could remember eating a pancake, he had been sat on the kitchen counter as a young kid and watched how the gooey mixture turned golden in the pan and his mother flipped it with a bright smile.

He’d grabbed it right of the plate when she had removed it from the pan. It had been warm enough to hurt his hand a little but not enough for it to stop him putting as much of it as he could into his mouth before his mother turned around.

He swore that he could recall the look on his mother’s face when she had found her toddler with half a newly made pancake hanging out of his mouth. It had been glorious.

Phil liked all sorts of pancakes. Crepes were amazing, even better when his mother made them. On a trip to America, he was introduced to IHOP and nearly lost his mind. So many things could be stuffed INSIDE of the pancakes and here they were small and fluffy.

Trying to experiment back home with putting too many things into pancake mixture worked less than ideal but at least him and his mother had fun in the kitchen. He was never any good at making food and pancakes were no exception.

He had fun though.

As he grew older, pancakes started becoming more for special occasions. Birthdays. Celebrations. Travels to America. Pancake Day, of course. A rare but very valued treat all the same.

And then Phil got a partner in crime.

Or perhaps just a partner. None of them had ever done much crime. They were too busy being tall awkward nerds in love to do much of that.

Dan appreciated pancakes but he didn’t love them. Not like Phil did. Nor would he gorge himself entirely on them enough to get a belly ache on Pancake Day. Instead, Dan had spent the time sat opposite Phil stuffing his face with the 8th pancake to look up facts about Shrove Tuesday.

Phil had never cared much about why Pancake Day had come to be, but he was endeared to know that Dan did. 

“Did you know that it was originally a feast day because it came the day before Ash Wednesday which was 40 days before Lent?” Dan had asked Phil, scrolling through Wikipedia.

Even back then, Dan had liked his Wikipedia dives. He could disappear into his phone or laptop for hours and then come to Phil and share all the things he had learned. Phil always tried to listen but most of the time, Dan got so wrapped up in his head about it that his words didn’t actually make the most sense.

“I have no idea what half of those words mean,” Phil had said, an exaggeration, before taking the final bite of his pancake.

Dan had flicked him on the forehead. Not hard enough to hurt, just a little sting. Phil took another pancake from the pile and smirked at Dan who got lost in his phone again.

That had 2010 the first pancake day they had gotten to spent together. Dan had been over at Phil’s tiny Manchester flat and they had eaten nothing but pancakes all day.

The following year they had filmed, edited and released the _How To Make British Pancakes_ video that was pure chaos sprinkled with pancake making. It had been the first time they had made pancakes in their first home. Even now the Manchester flat still held nostalgic memories for the two of them.

Many more Pancake Days had followed. Mostly they’d stick with Deliah Smith. One year, Dan had gotten a vegan recipe from his brother. That year had been quite chaotic and they had ended up going out for pancakes instead.

Phil still made entirely too much a mess in the kitchen when they were attempting to make pancakes and Dan wasn’t any better. It didn’t stop Phil from trying to do it at least a couple of times a year. You could never be entirely sure of the results, not even when they followed the same recipe.

Phil still ate the pancakes. Pancakes were pancakes no matter what and he would not discriminate in his pancake choices. Dan usually teased him for it. It had ended up in more than one pancake fight, involving both finish pancakes and pancake mixture.

It wasn’t like their kitchen wasn’t usually a mess either way.

In 2021, Phil had been looking forward to trying to make pancakes in their forever home kitchen. It would not be a reality. Moving was so close. Within their grasp but they hadn’t been able to get there quite yet. It was delay up on delay and there was a clear light at the end of the tunnel but the destination seemed so far away some days.

Pancake Day was one of those days. Phil hadn’t felt up for the baking adventure. He wanted to be in the kitchen he and Dan had designed together to perfection. He had already been imagining where all their kitchen appliances would go into which cupboards and drawers.

He had grand visions of learning to cook more than a handful or two of recipes that they always tended to fall back on when they wanted something homemade. Dan could cook too, but he was equally limited in repertoire.

It was meant to be a fun project.

Making pancakes together had always been a fun project too. They’d done it for ten years in a row on this day. Sometimes, Phil had to drag Dan into the kitchen and make him his helper but he had always come. One time they had both been at a shoot and only come home late in the evening and they had still made pancakes together.

But with Dan’s book and their moving mess and the ongoing pandemic which still hit hard in London, Phil hadn’t felt particularly in the pancake making spirit.

He had even considered that he perhaps should let it slide this year. Dan would likely have forgotten anyway. It was Phil who always kept track of the day, usually at least a week in advance.

Maybe this whole past year was getting to him more than he had realised.

When he woke up on pancake day morning, Phil had been confused. He had reached out to Dan’s side of the bed and found it vacant and cold. Dan was a warm human and the space left behind his body was usually warm for a while even after he got up.

On rare occasions where Dan got out of bed first, half-asleep Phil would usually roll over to his side and bask in the scent and warmth left behind. It was the perfect place to go back to sleep for just a moment. If he was lucky, he’d even trigger dreams about Dan in his sleepy but not fully asleep state. Those were always fun.

But Phil didn’t roll over this morning. He knew Dan would have gone late to bed, because he had still been in the lounge at his computer when Phil had knocked out. He shouldn’t be up yet, not unless something was bothering him.

Phil tilted himself out of the bed and started to search for Dan with wobbly steps. Just like his eyes, it was like his legs hadn’t gotten the message to go fully operational yet.

Dan was not in the lounge.

Dan was not in the bathroom.

Dan was in the kitchen.

And he wasn’t alone.

Of course, there would not be a guest in their kitchen at this hour. That wouldn’t happen even if they were not in the middle of a global pandemic. But next to the counter was a huge pile of pancakes.

The tallest stack that Phil had ever seen in real life. It looked like something out of a cartoon.

“Dan?” Phil asked, voice deep but painted with surprise. “You’re making pancakes?”

“Of course,” Dan said, turning around to smile at Phil.

He looked tired but happy. Eyes smiling even if it was over dark patches. Flour and mixture on his arms and face but comfortable energy radiating off him.

Phil scanned the state of the kitchen. It was a mess. Bowls upon bowls were sprawled out, most empty but some still filled to the top.

Dan flipped one of the pans he was using. The flick of his wrist seemed trained. Well-practiced.

Phil looked at the stack again. It was almost as tall as his own head if he were to guess. It was not an easy feat to accomplish with the flat crepes. American pancakes would have stacked more impressively but this was their type of pancakes.

Phil had a lot of questions on the tip of his tongue.

Why was Dan making such an absurd number of pancakes? Phil loved pancakes but even he was doubtful that he’d be able to finish half the stack in the next couple of days.

Had Dan even gone to sleep last night? He looked like he had been at this for hours already and the early morning light coming in from the window told Phil it wasn’t that late in the day yet.

Why did Phil feel like crying at the sight of Dan like this? Not in a bad way, not at all. Just in an overwhelmed way, which wasn’t something that Phil did often.

Him and Dan had lived together for more than a decade. They had shared three different homes already. They were on the precipice of being able to move into the home they would hopefully grow old into.

And Dan was here making a humongous number of pancakes.

Phil didn’t really need to ask why. In part because it didn’t matter and in part because he could tell the base reason even if he didn’t know the specifics.

He was doing it for Phil.

Phil didn’t need to ask about Dan’s apparent lack of sleep either. He could tell that Dan hadn’t slept at all, staying up through the night as he did sometimes when his brain refused to shut up.

He’d usually try to find some kind of outlet for his energy.

And lastly, Phil didn’t need Dan to explain to him why this action made Phil feel so warm and grateful. This one was perhaps the simplest one out of all.

Phil loved Dan and their life so much.

So, he voiced none of the questions and instead went up to hug Dan from behind. He felt warm and heavy as he leaned back against Phil’s chest and let out a sigh.

“You know, I’ve ordered this fancy pancake from a place too. We will be lost in pancakes.”

“Why did you do that?” Phil asked, moving to press his lips to Dan’s temple. A kiss or a touch. Phil wasn’t sure but Dan melted further into Phil’s arms.

“I did it a while ago. Saw an ad. You’re getting a cherry pancake.”

Phil let out a snort and rolled his eyes even though he knew Dan couldn’t see him right now with how they were standing. He tightened his arms around Dan’s torso.

“Of course, I am.”

“You’re not going to ask?” Dan asked, lifting his weapon of choice high enough almost to poke Phil’s eyes out.

Phil hid his face in Dan’s curls. They smelled vaguely of Dan’s shampoo and a little bit of sweat but mostly it just smelled like Dan. Phil already knew that Dan’s curls were a good hiding place.

All of Dan was a good hiding place. Phil always felt like nothing bad could ever find him if he had Dan within reach. 

“No,” Phil muttered into Dan’s hair.

“Alright,” Dan said, a soft chuckle making its way out of his mouth. Phil could feel it all the way from Dan’s stomach where his hands had come to rest. Dan always did laugh with his whole body. Small and big laughter in equal measure.

Dan finished the last of the mixture in the bowl next to him, adding more pancakes to the growing stack. Phil stayed plastered to his back the whole time, just breathing him in and trying to get their heartbeats to sync up.

It was possible. He’d tried this before.

“You’re going to have to let me go if you want me to get the final bowl of mixture.”

“Do we not have enough?” Phil asked, and clung on a little tighter.

He had almost been lulled to sleep, even standing up. Dan was warm and comforting and the repetitive motions and sounds of pancake creation was quite calming to listen to.

Phil wondered if anyone had ever recorded it for those calming sounds list. If not, they should. 

“I’ll do the last one,” Phil said, grabbing Dan by the hips and keeping him in his spot when he tried to reach for the last bowl.

“No, I’m making this for you,” Dan protested, but it was a weak one. He was pouting and his puppy dog eyes might have worked better if he didn’t look like he might just fall asleep standing up.

“No more,” Phil said and then knocked his hip into Dan’s to nudge him further down. He then reached behind Dan and removed all the empty bowls, tossing them onto the table behind him and instead grabbing Dan by the hips and lifting him up to sit on the counter.

Dan grabbed the counter with his hands and let himself be pushed up.

“I think I’ve sat down in about three pools of uncooked pancake,” Dan said but he didn’t make any gesture to move. He just accepted his fate.

Phil knew that Dan would. He liked to be on top of things, sat in weird positions or places that you weren’t meant sit. Phil was the same way, so he knew Dan would stay seated if he was placed on a place like the counter.

“You need to wash those pants anyway,” Phil said, smiling before he reached a pinkie into the mixture and then wiped it against Dan’s cheek, right in the dimple that was smiling at him right now.

“I am not mentally aware enough for a food fight right now, Lester,” Dan said, wrinkling his nose. The pancake mixture started to drip down Dan’s cheek but he made no move to stop it.

Phil leaned back in, this time to kiss the cheek. He caught some of the mixture as well.

When Phil pulled back, there was a refreshed spark in Dan’s eyes even with the fatigue. He looked like a man in love. Phil would never get over Dan looking at him like that.

Some days, it didn’t even feel like this was real.

“You know, I dreamed of something like this when I was young,” Phil said, pouring mixture into the pan and getting too much in. It was fine. Pancakes were about artistic expression; he had always believed.

“Yeah?” Dan prompted. “Which part?”

He leaned back to rest his head against the cupboards and closed his eyes but his finger kept tapping the side of his knee. A steady rhythm.

“The impossible big pancake stack for one,” Phil said, looking again at the masterpiece that Dan had created. It was beautiful to look at when Phil didn’t think about try to make it through the whole thing.

He had an urge to cut a knife directly through it, just to see how it would slice. He wouldn’t do that and ruin all Dan’s hard work but the temptation was there.

“What else?” Dan muttered.

He sounded like he was falling asleep. Right there, on the counter, head resting back against the cupboards. A terrible place to sleep, but Phil wasn’t going to stop him. After all, he was right next to Dan at the stove and he could catch him.

He could _probably_ catch him.

“I dreamed of this. A home with a man I love. Simple domestic life. Having someone to create and share moments with,” Phil said sincerely. The words came out alright this morning. Phil had tried to express stuff like this before, but most of the time he would get too tongue-tied to get the point across.

Dan had always been the better one with big declarations of love.

Words like to cooperate with him in a way that they didn’t always did with Phil. It was okay though, Phil thought as he flipped the too thick pancake. It cracked a little, but Phil fixed it with a bit more mixture. No harm, no foul.

“I’m glad you like the pancakes, Phil,” Dan said, and he sounded far away in his voice. Clearly drifting off to sleep.

Phil looked over at how precariously he was sleeping and he felt his heart drop once more for this man. This stupid, silly and good man that Phil had been so lucky to find and make a life with. They had so many years behind them already but they had even more years to come.

Phil finished the whole bowl and stacked more onto the pancake tower before he gently shook Dan awake. He jolted and nearly sent himself flying onto the floor but Phil managed to grab him and slow down his jump.

“I’ve got you,” Phil said, noticing how all the mixture he had gotten on his hands were now on Dan’s shirt.

He would be made out of pancake soon. Good. Phil’s favourite treat.

“Did you finish it?” Dan asked with a yawn and looked over to admire the stack. It was impressive in height.

Phil wasn’t even sure when Dan had done a shop big enough to get this much of the ingredients.

“Our little pancake baby,” Phil said.

“Don’t call it our baby when we’re going to _eat it_ , Phil.”

“Have you never heard of cannibalism?”

“Shut up, it’s too early for this.”

“It’s actually nearly a perfectly reasonable morning time right now,” Phil countered and then reached out to jostle Dan’s curls a little. They were sticking on his forehead and the side curl was not getting what it deserved.

“I repeat: shut up,” Dan insisted, voice deep but alit with laughter. He bonked his head against Phil’s. “We’re eating pancakes now, even if I had to do it with my eyes closed.”

And they did. Dan hadn’t only bought ingredients it turned out but also entirely too many toppings. Anything Phil could have thought of was at the table. Phil didn’t have the heart to tell Dan that he would be more than happy with just sugar and lemon. Those were the best after all.

Still, trying something new was fun. Phil embraced that life motto. Dan knew that.

They didn’t even make it through a fifth of the stack, even as they stuffed their faces.

Afterwards, they relocated to the couch where Dan claimed Phil as his personal pillow and snuggled his face into Phil’s chest.

“You know, if I had the hearing ability to hear heartbeats, like, people’s heartbeats from a distance? I think I’d be able to pick yours out of a line up any day,” Dan said and pressed the side of his head closer to Phil’s chest.

To Phil’s heart.

“You’re very cute and romantic when you’re sleep deprived, Danny,” Phil teased him.

“Excuse you, I am always cute and romantic,” Dan countered.

Phil chuckled and moved a hand to Dan’s curls to slowly move his hands through the soft hair. Dan almost purred and snuggled closer. Phil had switched something onto the TV before he had laid down but he didn’t care to look at it.

Dan fell asleep on his chest and it was an addicting and contagious feeling. Phil snuggled down a little closer, removed his glasses and got comfortable and then it didn’t take long for him to fall back asleep. Midday cuddle sessions were not that normal between them and Phil wanted to take advantage of it.

They were woken in the early afternoon by their doorbell ringing. Phil had to tip Dan off him before he could get up and Dan had groaned in annoyance at being awoken again. Phil had opened the door without his glasses, seeing just a blurry figure holding out a package and asking him to sign.

Phil could have been signing away his life and he wouldn’t know but he scrawled down his signature all the same.

He lifted the little box to his nose and it smelled heavenly.

“Dan, I think the pancake you ordered is here!” Phil called out.

“No more pancakes!” Dan called out with a big groan.

“There’s always room for more pancakes!” Phil insisted.

He gave into the urge to run back into the lounge, quickly tossing the box onto the sofa table and then flinging himself down on top of Dan.

He let out a groan at the impact but his hands still went up to hold Phil’s hips and his touch was soft.

“You’re a pancake,” Dan muttered.

“I’m as thick as one,” Phil joked and tried to wiggle his eyebrows.

“PHIIILLL!”

“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” Phil said and then leaned in to press a kiss against Dan’s pouting mouth. His eyes had been closed but they fluttered open as he felt the gentle pressure against his lips.

He looked Phil right in the eyes, smirk spreading on his lips. Three unsaid words on his lips that he didn’t need to form into audible words when Phil could see it without anything being said.

“You’re ridiculous. How can you want more pancake after that feast from this morning?”

“You always have room for more pancake,” Phil argued, and leaned in close enough to rest their foreheads together.

Dan scrunched up his nose and he looked so adorable.

Dan’s hands moved to Phil’s butt, hands just gently resting and holding him. There was something easy and intimate about his, foreheads together, Dan’s hands on Phil’s ass and the two of them pressed together.

It wasn’t even sexual right now, just radiating comfort and familiarity with each other’s boundaries and bodies. Phil really did mean it when he said he had dreamed of something like this.

“Let’s get you your pancake then, Lester. Only for you.”

Phil kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Does it make sense? (Apologies for any typos, I did not proofread oops). I hope you liked it! Also, I want to know how you take your pancakes, both in terms of toppings and types. My favourite would be crepes with Nutella. I love them so much and I will get some tomorrow because I did not realise today was Pancake Day until way too late into the day (shame on me).
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> [Reblog on tumblr](https://secretlywritingstories.tumblr.com/post/643310984659861504/stacks-of-pancakes-as-tall-as-my-love-for-you)


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